The fearful struggle's ended now and peace smiles on
our land,
And though we've yielded we have proved ourselves a
faithful band.
We fought them long, we fought them well, we fought
them night and day,
And bravely struggled for our rights while wearing of
the gray.
And now that we have ceased to fight and pledged our
sacred word,
That we against the Union's might no more will draw the
sword,
We feel despite the sneers of those who never smelt the
fray,
That we've a manly, honest right to wearing of the
gray.
Our cause is lost the more we fight 'gainst
o'erwhelming power,
All wearied are our limbs and drenched with many a
battle shower.
We feign we rest for want of strength in yielding up
the day,
And lower the flag so proudly born while wearing of the
gray.
Defeat is not dishonor, our honor not bereft,
We thank God that in our hearts this priceless boon was
left.
And though we weep just for those braves who stood in
proud array,
Beneath our flag and nobly died while wearing of the
gray.
When in the ranks of war we stood and faced the deadly
hail,
Our simple suits of gray composed our only coats of
mail.
And on the awful hours that marked the bloody battle
day,
In memories we'll still be seen wearing of the gray.
Oh! should we reach that glorious place where waits a
sparklin' crown,
For everyone who for the right his soldier life lay
down.
God grant to us the privilege upon that happy day,
Of claspin' hands with those who fell while wearing of
the gray.
